


There's No Better Team

by CheseraFifthe



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Pokemon Fusion, Author responds to reviews, Beau is the Main Character in a Pokemon Game, Beau would like to opt out thanks, Gen, Look I'm not saying Caleb's mind is a pokedex but..., Wildemount Campaign, eventually, spoilers for episode 49
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-23
Updated: 2019-03-06
Packaged: 2019-10-15 06:06:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,066
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17523308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheseraFifthe/pseuds/CheseraFifthe
Summary: The Adventures of the Mighty Nein, Now with 100% more Pokemon!





	1. Among the Witch Hair

**Author's Note:**

> This has been ruminating in my mind for the past few weeks as I avoid life and its stresses (With little success). That said, here are the ground rules of this universe.
> 
> 1\. Pokemon aren't the center of society in this AU, and there are probably many global organizations that protest the mistreatment of Pokemon.  
> 2\. Mass-produced pokeballs aren't a thing though there are storage options available.  
> 3\. Only the wealthy have more than one and over six pokemon is unheard of.  
> 4\. Every Pokemon has a single spell or cantrip associated with it (up to 5th level spells depending on the evolutionary state) which is their associated attack.

Caduceus loved his siblings. He did. Even when they laughed at him for his too big ears and his jumpy voice. When they tripped his gangly form and called him “ _Stickbug_ ”. He knew they meant it in good fun, but sometimes it got to be too much and he just wanted to… _breathe_ for a moment.

So when the Mother asked him to follow on one such occasion, he went happily. That she was leading him nearer to the Savalierwood than he’d ever been was inconsequential.

He touched the gate, barred by heavy chain, and bent from the force of the corruption around their haven.

 

_Not yet Caduceus. There is still more for you here. There. Look._

 

Caduceus pulled away from the gate, falling back within the familiar as Mother tugged his senses over to a tree with long flowing branches of witch hair.

Caduceus pushed aside the lichen draping from the tree to the thorny underbrush below it. There, struggling within a natural cage was a blue serpent, who, upon seeing a being many times its size, ceased struggling in an attempt to play dead.

“Oh, I, huh. Hey there.” He said, crouching to sit on his haunches. Maybe if he looked smaller, he wouldn't be so frightening to the little one there. “Hello. Uh. Hi. Let's just get you out of there, shall we?”

He held his hand out, just within reach. Give a little trust to gain a little. He ignored the sudden sharp sting as the little blue serpent bit his hand. The Wildmother's symbol warned his skin and he murmured a few words as the thorns began to rot around the ah, the Dratini, that he lifted by the gnawing mouth.

“Hey now. Hush, dear. It's alright now. You're free to go.” He murmured to his little serpent friend. The dratini paused in its gnawing, blinked up at him before sliding up his arm and around his neck. Not like attempting to strangle him for a meal, but loosely.

A breeze blew around them, ruffling his hair. _Mother?_

 

 _It's alright Caduceus, they need a friend just as much as you do right now_.

 

His attention was drawn to a cluster of berries which he picked and offered cautiously to the dratini. It snapped them up from his fingers and slid around his neck to peer at him expectantly.

“Did you want to follow me home?” He asked as was polite. He was assured by the Mother that he would make a new friend today but that didn't mean that his friend would be that close. He knew a couple of spots that were sufficiently sunny, and not all of them were within sight of the temple.

The dratini blinked at him expectantly, tugging gently at his ear. Caduceus got the message and started the walk back. “So,” he said to the dratini in the corner of his vision, “anything I can call you? Preferred pronouns, maybe?”

It pulled away from his ear, out in the air, turned and looked directly at his face. Caduceus felt more than a little foolish; after all, genders were more of a construct of civilization.

He stopped and focused on his little blue friend. “Are you a male?”

Silence.

“A female?”

Silence.

“Uhhh… More of a they?”

The dratini trilled.

“Huh, okay. Okay. Uh. Can I call you Alec? Short for Alectoria. Y'know, the witch's hair I found you in?”

The dratini, Alec, settled back down, resting on his shoulder.

“Okay. Okay, okay. Well, let's get you home, hmm?” Caduceus resumed walking, homeward bound.

 

_Thank you, Mother._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Young Caduceus is an anxious bean.


	2. Her Two Great Loves

Jester's mother was definitely the most beautiful person in the whole world, definitely. She was so famous and she had lots of friends that paid lots and lots of money to spend time with her.

Jester didn't blame them, her mother was the best. She sung so prettily and she told the best stories (except for the Traveler), and she gave some of the gifts she received to Jester because it would be in-a-pro-priate for her to show excessive favor to her suitors.

A lot of them gave her pokemon as _“A companion to remember me by”_   but she rarely kept them. Jester had to beg and plead for one to keep her company. It would be _super_ quiet and they would be the _best_ of friends and she could tell them all about the Traveler.

And her mother gave her the prettiest pokemon! It was a little fox with nine tails. A vulpix. And, and it was _super_ fancy, her mother said, because only in _really_ far off places were there snowy vulpix. She was super fuzzy and also really cold to touch (but Jester was fine), and it was nice to snuggle under a lot of blankets with Strudel and have the Ultimate Blanket Fort.

Maybe not so Ultimate because she forgot to bring snacks. She slipped out of her fort to get pastries for her and treats for Strudel, but before she could get halfway across the room there was the heavy sound of beating wings. Great shadows were cast across the walls. She turned and launched herself at the green cloaked man that appeared in the room.

“Traveler!” she cheered, hugging his waste as she looked up at his smile.

“Jester!” he mimicked, ruffling her hair. “How have you been?”

“Oh my gosh, Traveler! I threw some bread out the window the other day and the seagulls all flew down at once into a big pile! They caused such a huge mess and the Zelezhos had to run around all day to fix it, and there was one of them that got _covered_ in bird poop when he tripped and the birds flew away!”

“Little troublemaker,” he chuckled, “and who is this?” Jester saw Strudel peeking out from under the blanket fort. She rushed over to the bed, gently picking up Strudel from under her armpits and lifted her up as high as she could so she could show the Traveler her new friend. It wasn't hard, she was _pretty_ strong.

Strudel made a mlep.

The Traveler pat Strudel on the head. “She's very cute. But she neeeds… a ribbon!”

“Oh my gosh, yes! She needs a _pink_ ribbon! I can go ask Mama for one right now-”

“No need for that Jester,” The Traveler said as he snapped his fingers and a shiny silk ribbon appeared. He deftly tied the ribbon around Strudel's neck into a poofy bow. He snapped his fingers again and the ribbon sparkled.

“Oh it's beautiful!” Jester cheered, turning Strudel around and pulling the vulpix to her face.

Strudel licked her nose.

She giggled, “Thank you, Traveler!” she looked up to empty space.

The Traveler disappeared again.

 

Oh well, it was still pretty great!


	3. Within the Ivory Tower

The first magic Bren had ever learned was how to spark the Weave to flame. Not that he had the terms for such at the time, he was, ah, rather young. Eight years, four months, and twenty one days to be precise.

It was a source of pride for his parents that he could cast practically without effort, when even the brilliant Astrid needed a student teacher hired from Soltryce to teach her a similar spell. But maybe acid from nowhere was harder to procure than the fire he could create with a snap.

Naturally he saw more fire-natured pokemon than the average person. They were drawn to him and he was frequently asked to charm them out of the fields before they could set them alight or eat the crops. They were friends of his, though he used the term loosely. Because to him, one torchick was the same as another, all of them hungry menaces.

So, he was never truly surprised when, in the halls of that famed Academy, he made another fire-natured friend.

“Oh, Hallo!” he whispered to the little candle spirit peering at him through a gap in the library. _A litwick_ , his encyclopedic mind recalled, _the candle pokemon. It absorbs life force from the beings around it and uses it for fuel. Though there were recent studies done that suggest that they could convey memories as well._

Calculations ran through his mind. Many of the upper year students, some of whom had studied decades, had some sort of pokemon following them around. It was a sign of prestige if you had made an alliance with one, and even the archmages tended to have three or four heavyweights. The head of the Soltryce Academy, Oremid Hass, was known for the lazy Steelix perpetually sunning itself on the roof of the Administration Building.

Fire-natured ones weren't _exactly_ welcome within book-strewn halls, but to have the favor of one this early in his tutelage? Why, it would mark him as, as exceptional! One sure to succeed even!

He ran the numbers.

“Can you come here, please?” he requested of the litwick, holding his hand out and flat as a convenient perch if it so chose. The trick with fire-types, as he'd found over the years, was that you had to have a certainty that they would obey your wishes, and be as certain of that as the sun rising in the morning. Too little force and the pokemon would run roughshod over you. Too much and it fled from you, for fear of it being snuffed out as it were.

The litwick floated down to his palm, the phantom pain of burning wax easy to ignore as he focused some fire for them to feed on.

“I was wondering if you wanted to stay with me?” He asked, “I would offer you my flames in exchange for your companionship.”

The litwick was silent, floating on his palm as it fed off his flames. He waited, for he knew that the flames it tasted from him now were just the price of listening to his offer. The seconds ticked by like a small eternity. Correction, they ticked by like thirty-six of them.

 _Name?_ He heard in his head from a somewhat harsh feminine whisper.

“My name is Bren. Bren Aldric Ermendrud.” He said to the small spirit.

 _Name?_ It said again, more insistent and Bren felt like an idiot. He wasn't usually so slow on the uptake.

“You are female, correct?” He asked, because he had met people of many genders here at the Academy, and it was rude, and potentially lethal, to assume.

The litwick tipped forward like a nod. He took that as a yes.

“How about,” he cast about, mind flitting through different names like a rolodex (a gnomish invention frequently used here in the Academy). He stopped on a tale told frequently by his Mutter; a story of a cunning girl and her brother who fed a witch to her oven. There was a bit of irony there in that he could technically be considered a witch feeding his energy to a flame. He smothered a grin. “How about Gretel?”

 _Accepted._ Gretel murmured into his mind, floating off his palm and hovering above his left shoulder.

He looked up at her as he went back to wandering the shelves, now brightly lit thanks to his companion.

 

“It is nice to meet you, Gretel. We will be great together, you and I.”


	4. Orphanmaker

Yasha’s overlarge boots were coated in mud and gravel as she crouched down in front of a lone stump within the brittle bone-tree circle. There was nothing living around for miles. She placed a hand solidly upon the wooden top; it vibrated under her fingertips.

“Hello, Dagny.” she murmured, voice loud in the stillness of the grove. The stump opened its eyes and out flew a little wooden spirit girl that was once a dear friend.

“Yasha!” Dagny flew toward her, miming jumping on her back like she used to do when they were smaller. Yasha was much bigger now, and she still found that sad. But she wasn’t allowed to mope for long, when Dagny cheerfully rattled off a series of questions. “Yasha! How are you? How is the tribe? Have you seen anything interesting? Have you made any new friends? Have you seen my brother? How-”

“Dagny.” Yasha called before she could _really_ get going. Spirits have no need to breathe after all.

“I-oops. Sorry, Yash.” Her hands flew to her mouth as she bobbed in embarrassment.

“It’s no problem. In answer to your questions: Good. The same. Not really. No. And Yes.”

“Yasha!” Dagny whined, though her wriggling about was more humor than anger, so Yasha ignored it. “Yasha, I mean it. How is he?”

“...Ari is fine, Dagny.” She said, looking to the grove around them, unable to reveal the truth to the eternal seven year old.

“You hesitated.” Dagny scowled. Her countenance grew black and menacing, expanding like smoke as the lights in her head glowed a menacing green. “Yasha. You hesitated. Tell me the **_truth_**.”

“He. He misses you, Dagny.” She said, hating herself just a little bit for what she was about to reveal, “He’s hurting.”

Her poor attempts at deflection did nothing. “Father’s doing it again, isn’t he.”

“I-Yes.” And it stung to admit it. That she could do nothing to protect the sweet boy struggling under the heavy expectations of the tribe and a heavy-handed father behind closed doors.

“You can fix it, right Yash?” Dagny pleaded, floating gently to her face, her eyes glowing an icy blue.

Resolve crystalized within her _(like the ice in the dead girl’s eyes)_.

Ari stood across a lit pyre by the end of the day, tears streaming down swollen eyes. One red, one black. He would grow up hating her, because she could not, would not, tell him what his sister asked for his sake.

He was young enough to move past his grief, eventually, if not his newfound hatred. And if she needed to be the boogeyman for him to do so? Then so be it.

 

Yasha had finally earned her title.


	5. I wanna be the very best

Like most things in her life, the only good thing her parents ever did for her was more for _their_ reputation. After all, _“Everyone who’s anyone has one, Beauregard, and I will not be looked down upon because you can’t handle the responsibility!”_

It’s not the _responsibility_ she was against, it was trapping someone else in this life against their will. At least _she_ had opposable thumbs and wasn’t solely dependent on her folks to provide her with everything. If it was left up to her parents, she could guarantee that it would be left with the servants within the week. They did it to their unwanted child after all.

Needless to say, she was not happy that she was the scapegoat for this showy bullshit. And she showed her displeasure by casually carving into the wall of Professor Larch’s Pokemon research facility.

“Ah, Beauregard.” Long-haired, elven Professor Larch called out, opening the door to his office. “Come in! Come, come.”

Beau shuffled in, secretly glad that the professor didn't call her “Miss Lionett” like everyone else did. He, at least, saw her for her own fuck-ups rather than as her parents’ disappointment.

Her gratitude was gone when she saw a weird elf-child leaning against the desk.

“Gramps! I'm fed up with waiting!”

She hated him instantly.

Professor Larch looked mildly surprised with the intruder, “Iliris? Let me think… Oh that's right, I told you to come! Just wait!”

Professor Larch ignored his...grandson? and turned to her again. “Here, Beauregard! There are 3 Pokemon here! Haha! They are inside the Poke Balls!” he pointed to the three crystals on the table.

...what?

“When I was young I was a serious Pokemon trainer. In my old age–” Beau turned him out, still very confused as to where this child came from. Her mother would swear up and down that Professor Larch had no family to speak of, and, while she was a real piece of work, she was very thorough in how she ferreted out information. “–have one! Choose!”

“Hey! Gramps! What about me?” Illred whined, somehow _more_ annoying than he was before.

Professor Larch waved him away. “Be patient! Illiris, you can have one too! Now, Beauregard, which Pokemon do you want?”

Illroy scoffed, “Heh, I don't need to be greedy like you! Go ahead and choose, Beauregard!”

In front of her were a lizard, a turtle, and a cactus-creature.

Meh. The cactus-creature has spikes, and thus was more badass than the other two combined.

Professor Larch clutched her shoulder leaning down to peer at the cactus with her. “So you want the plant Pokemon, Beauregard?”

“...yes.” Beau muttered, hoping that it would last when her parents inevitably tried to starve it because it didn’t fit their idea of what it should be. _Here goes nothing._

“This Bulbasaur is really energetic!” Professor Larch commented. “She will be a great companion!”

“I’ll take this one then!” Illralph said, snatching the lizard up and shaking it vigorously. Beau hoped it peed on him.

Beau turned to leave, hoping to never see the pair of them ever again.

Naturally Illrabies wouldn’t let her go. “Wait Beauregard! Let's check out our Pokemon! Come on, I'll take you on!” He held his lizard out, a constipated look on his face.

She punched Illreject _(avoiding the lizard! she wasn’t a monster!)_ in the face and stepped over his unconscious body. The bulbasaur trailing behind her didn't bother.

Halfway down the road she heard Illroomba yell, “WHAT? Unbelievable! I picked the wrong Pokemon! Okay! I'll make my Pokemon fight to toughen it up! Beauregard! Gramps! Smell you later!”

O- _kay_ then…

“So…” she looked down at the bulbasaur following her. “How ‘bout I call you Shiva? After a badass heathen goddess!”

“Bulba-saur!” She probably agreed.

“Good enough for me. Let’s go back, Shiva.”

 

_This is just the beginning of the amazing adventures of Beau and Bulbasaur! Their journey is destined to be packed with non-stop action, millions of laughs, heart-pounding perils, and endless excitement! Together they'll encounter fantastic friends, evil enemies, and meet creatures beyond their wildest imagination! And as their story unfolds, we'll unlock the magic and mystery of a most wonderous place: The Incredible World of Pokémon!_

 

“...The fuck?"

“Saur!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the end of the **"Childhood Arc"** , Next up: _*Rocky Theme Intensifies*_ **Training Montages!** (or the Young Adult Arc if you want to be _boring_...)


	6. Mecha Cleric

 

Jester Lavorre, Tiefling Extraordinaire, was _boored_. She had read all her books for the millionth time, and colored thirteen different pictures to show to Mama (and later the Traveler). And Strudel was napping on her favorite pillow and she couldn’t just _wake_ her! What kind of person would do such a thing? Probably a terrible one, probably.

She was enjoying the sea breezes of Nicodranas and thinking about sneaking down to the kitchens to get some pastries when she heard her favorite sound in the whole world. (Except her mother’s singing, technically.) The heavy beating of the Traveler’s wings.

“Trave- _ohmygosh!_ What happened?” She gasped at the bloodied pink creature in the Traveler’s arms, rushing over to look closely.

“Hello Jester,” the Traveler said, sounding mostly cheerful, but like he was just a _little_ tired. And maybe disappointed. (She could _totally_ tell.) “I wanted you to meet this little troublemaker for some time, but he just couldn’t bring himself to leave his, ah, situation.”

She had the feeling that the Traveler was hiding a “grown up thing” from her. But it was fine. It was _The Traveler_ after all. And besides, she was pretty clever and she could figure it out all by herself. Like a mystery! And Jester had read lots of mystery novels and she was pretty sure she would make an excellent detective! She would find out eventually!

“You are going to heal them, right?” She asked the Traveler, sure that he could do it if he really wanted to. Maybe he brought her new friend here because he needed extra bandages, Jester knew where the servants kept them, if he needed them. The Traveler smiled at her, like he was reading her thoughts. _Hi Traveler!!_

“I’m not all the way on this plane right now, Jester, I would need an anchor to cast the spells for me. Would you be willing to call yourself a follower of mine, so that I’ll always be with you?”

Of _course_ Jester would like her best friend with her always and forever, but she had a feeling that this was more serious for him than he was letting on. But she knew her answer would be the same now as it would be a hundred years from now. “Traveler–” She said gravely, getting on her tiptoes to put her hand on the Traveler’s arm, like she had seen Mama do to comfort Blude when he was sad. “–You are my best friend, and I will _always_ follow you. You’re a really cool guy, you know, and everyone will be _so_ jealous that they don’t have a friend as awesome as the Traveler, like I do!”

The Traveler gave a soft, fond grin from beneath his dark cloak, before standing up straight and looking down on her with a sense of regality that she rarely felt from him. “Jester Lavorre, Daughter of the Ruby, will you be a delightful source of mischief unto others?”

The room got heavier as the Traveler spoke with a sense of ritual. What else could she say but, “I will.”

“And, Jester Lavorre, will you become an agent of balance upon the face of Exandria, to give others opportunities of chaos in their lives, for good or for ill?”

The shadows under his cloak and around her room grew darker. The landscape outside was blindingly white, her candles flared up. She focused on the shining green orbs under the cloak and said, “I will.”

“And will you share word of your adventures and of me as you travel far and wide upon land, sea, air, and ether?”

Never before had she known just how big the world was outside the Lavish Chateau. Outside Nicodranas, even, as flashes of places appeared in her mind. Small towns, big cities, odd forests, deep caves. Everywhere. She could only feel excitement in her blood and an itch in her feet.

“I will.”

“Well then, Jester, my companion and my cleric, may we travel together for many years to come.”

A bronze medallion of a path through an open door popped into existence and fell gently into her hand. It was warm and felt like a hug from Mama and the warm approval of the Traveler.

“Now just put your hand on this fellow here and let your faith in me, and in my power, heal him.”

She placed her hand on the cooling, blood-soaked body. It was looking _pretty_ rough, breathing shallowly in the Traveler's arms. Still she knew everything was going to be okay. Energy trickled through her and she felt the little one getting stronger.

He tilted his head toward her and she could see button-black eyes and a red nose.

“Hello there! What's your name?” she whispered to the little guy as he was gently placed on the ground by the Traveler. She only sorta noticed him leaving again, the warm approval in the back of her mind felt like he was still watching them even if he wasn't visible right then.

The pale pink creature rubbed an eye, wobbling in place. She was kinda worried that the blue hat on his head would tumble off as he answered. “M-mime.” He shrugged.

She knelt down next to him; he was just below eye level at this height and she gave him a gentle hug. “They were very mean, the people who did this to you. I bet the Traveler had to go show them how to have fun and be, you know, _not_ stinky poopheads.” An agreeing chuckle rung through her head.

“But they don't matter anymore, because you have me now! I'm, like, super cool and stuff and you and I will have _so_ much fun and-”

“Mime mime?”

“Oh right, a name! Well it needs to be super dangerous and very badass, probably. You know something that says “guys he looks super dangerous and cool and stuff, especially with his amazing friend Jester, _Cleric of the Traveler!_ We really shouldn't mess with, um. Oh! We _totally_ shouldn't mess with GYPSY DANGER!!”

“Mime Mime!”

And so Jester and Gypsy Danger went off on their first unofficial mission, to go down to the kitchen and introduce him to everyone they could find.

  
 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How old is Jester at this point? My completely canon answer: ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and Comments are, as always, appreciated. 
> 
> ♥


End file.
